Tesi

The Barefoot Author

Walking Gently Where This World and Imagination Meet

Turn Your Spirit Loose

O God,
turn your Spirit loose now,
and me with it,
that I may go to where the edge is
to face with you the shape of my mortality:
the inescapable struggle
and loneliness and pain
which remind me
that I am less than god after all,
that you have made me with hard limits,
limits to my strength
my knowledge,
my days.

Facing those limits, Lord,
grant me grace
to live to the limit
of being unflinchingly alive,
irrepressibly alive,
fully alive,
of experiencing
every fragile,
miraculous,
bloody,
juicy,
aching,
beautiful ounce of being a human being;
of doing my duty
and a little more;
of loving the people around me,
my friends and my enemies;
of humbling myself to take others seriously
and delightedly;
of applying my heart to the wisdom of simplicity,
the freedom of honesty.

O God,
turn your Spirit loose here,
and me with it,
that I may go to where the silence is
to face with you the utter mystery
of questions without answers,
pain without balm,
sorrow without comfort,
and fears without relief,
which hound my days
and haunt my sleep.

Facing the mystery, Lord,
grant me grace
to wrestle with it
until I name the fears
and force them to set me free
to move on with whatever limp I'm left with;
to wrestle with it
until the pain teach me
and I befriend it,
until the silence subdues me
into an awareness that it is holy
and I am healed by it;
to wrestle with it
until I go deeper in it
to gratitude
for all the shapes of wholeness
and of hope that bless me.

O God,
turn your Spirit loose now,
and me with it,
that I may go to where the darkness is
to face with you the terrible uncertainty of tomorrow;
of what will happen,
of what might happen,
to me
and to my children
and to my friends,
to my job,
to my relationships,
to my country;
all that I cannot see, but fantasize,
that I would prevent, but cannot,
and so must accept as possibilities.
Facing the uncertainty, Lord,
grant me grace
to look at it directly and openly and truly,
to laugh at it with crazy faith
in the crazy promise
that nothing can separate me from your love;
to laugh for the joy of it,
the joy of those saving surprises
that also stir in the darkness.
And, so, I trust,
despite the dark uncertainty of tomorrow,
in the light of my todays,
in the cross,
and in a kingdom coming,
and, so, I move on and pray on
with Jesus, my friend and redeemer.

So, this is what I'm contemplating today. The sense of the absence of God, and how it scares some people away and draws others closer.

"The more a human being advances in the Christian faith, the more they live the presence of God as an absence, the more they accept to die to the idea of becoming aware of God, of fathoming Him. For they have learned, while advancing, that god is unfathomable. And from then on the presence of God assumes value in their eyes only against the backdrop of absence. The mystic, in his long and complicated pilgrimage, experiences alternately the presence and absence of God. But, by degrees, the absence of God is felt more and more and the mystic understands that this absence is now the norm. Thus the mystic is someone who has had a long-term confrontation with God, like Jacob in the struggle that he \waged all through the night, someone who does not cease to confront God...What the mystic experiences...is a kind of distancing from God in proportion to advances in the deepening of their faith."
-Jean Francois Six

I'm never quite certain how to respond to people who are doubting God, or abandoning their faith because they don't see Him. Don't hear Him. Don't get any answers to their prayers.

Partly I don't know how to respond because I feel like they've discovered the greatest secret of the Christian Faith: Many, many of us don't feel God, a lot of the time. And I think the above quote is right, that it's often not the result of doubt--it's the result of faith. Yet, because our churches train us to act as if we NEVER doubt, never feel His absence, never feel lost or abandoned because we don't feel Him as we once did, we're left to believe that because we don't feel Him he left. Or because we don't feel Him, we're doing something wrong. We're left believing that that which often comes as a mark of deepening relationship is exactly the opposite.

There's a quietness to the faith that carries on in the present absence of God. A gentleness much like sitting beside your lover in a dark room. You don't see them, you aren't talking to them (or if you are, they aren't talking back), yet even though your senses don't perceive their presence...you know they're there. Because sometimes the lights come one, and you have a conversation. But even when you don't...you still know they're there. And it's a gentle, quiet peace. A peace that comes with maturity of relationship, and less...NEED, I guess, of constant reminders. "Yes, I'm here. Yes, I love you. Yes, I'm here. Yes, I love you..." "I KNOW. I know in a way that means you don't need to keep telling me. It's okay. Let's just sit together."

I'm not sure if this is making any sense. Please feel free to let me know if it is. My head aches again, and I've only just had my tea. So...here's hoping this gives you something to contemplate today as well.

It's Saint Caedmon's Day.Caedmon (died 680 A.D.) lived in Ireland in a time when history, news, entertainment, life and love were all shared by word of mouth, and by music. Ballads passed down from generation to generation carried the life-blood of the People.But Caedmon couldn't sing. Couldn't play a note, couldn't even remember a story in the proper order. When his turn came, so the story goes, he would panic; words would get jumbled, notes lost, and singing would come to a standstill if he even tried to join. So he began to avoid any situation in which he might be called upon to sing. One night, having left a warm, joyful hall full of singing lest the harp be passed to him, he fell asleep on his bed in the cattle shed, where he'd gone to sleep with the beasts. In his dreams a man came to him, and stood before him. "Sing for me, Caedmon," he said. "Sing for me.""I can't sing," Caedmon protested. "Why do you think I'm out here, instead of at the feast?""Sing anyway. Sing for me.""I don't know what to sing.""Sing about the beginning of the world, and sing about creation."And so Caedmon sang. In his dream, before the man who had called on him to sing, he sang a song of love and praise to the Father of Heaven, Creator of All. And, in his dream, the song was so beautiful as to draw tears from the hearer.But when he woke, the song was still with him, and he sang it for everyone who would hear. The story of Caedmon tells us that he sang for poor and rich, educated and simple, man and woman and child. He sang the stories of the Creator, the stories of Love. And so the man who couldn't speak a story, much less sing one, became the carrier of the greatest Story, because when told to open his mouth, he trusted that the song would be there.And so today, we think of those whose song is unsung, and pray that they find their music we think of our own song and ask if we have sung it well and if not, we take a breath and ask for grace and open our mouths to sing.I cannot speak, unless You loose my tongue;I only stammer,and I speak uncertainly;but if You touch my mouth,my Lord, then I will sing the storyof Your wonders!Teach me to hear that story,through each person,to cradle a sense of wonderin their life,to honour the hard-earned wisdomof their sufferingsto waken their joythat the King of all kingsstoops downto wash their feet,and looking upinto their facesays,'I know--I understand'This world has becomea world of broken dreamswhere dreamers are hard to findand friends are fewLord, be the gatherer of our dreams.You set the countless stars in place,and found room for each of them to shine.You listen for us in Your heaven-bright hall.Open our mouths to tell our tales of wonder.Teach us again the greatest story ever:the One who made the worlds became a little, helpless child...So many who have heardforget to tell the Story. --Adapted from Celtic Daily Prayer From the Northumbria Community

Praise be to you, O Lord, for life
and for my intense desire to live;
praise be to you for the mystery of love
and for my intense desire to be a lover;
praise be to you for this day
and another chance to live and love.

Thank you, Lord,
for friends who stake their claim in my heart,
for enemies who disturb my soul and bump my ego,
for tuba players,
and story tellers,
and trapeze troupes.
Thank you, Lord,
for singers of songs,
for teachers of songs,
who help me sing along the way,
...and for listeners.
thank you, Lord,
for those who attempt beauty
rather than curse ugliness,
for those who take stands
rather than take polls,
for those who risk being right
rather than pandering to be liked,
for those who do something
rather than talking about everything.

Lord, grant me grace, then,
and a portion of your spirit
that I may so live
as to give others cause
to be thankful for me,
thankful because I have not forgotten
how to hope
how to laugh
how to say, "I'm sorry,"
how to forgive,
how to bind up wounds,
how to dream,
how to cry,
how to pray,
how to love when it is hard,
and how to dare when it is dangerous.
Undamn me, Lord,
that praise may flow more easily from me
than wants,
thanks more readily
than complaints.
Praise be to you, Lord, for life;
praise be to you for another chance to live.

--From Guerrillas of Grace

A prayer for those I love, and for myself. May the Peace of Christ be with you this day.
In the name of the Father, gracious
the Son, loving
the Spirit, convicting.

Eternal Friend,grant me an easeto breathe deeply of this moment, this light, this miracle of now.Beneath the din and fury of great movements and harsh news and urgent crises,make me attentive still to good news, to small occasions, and the grace of what is possible for me to be, to do, to give, to receive,that I may miss neither my neighbor's gift nor my enemy's need. --From Guerrillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle by Ted LoderThis is my newest discovery, a book of prayers that bring me to my knees by their beauty and their understanding. I want to say things like this. I want to write things that make others understand God, themselves and the world better. I tried doing that last night, though I'm not sure if I succeeded. I'm working on it again today, but writing real things about real life is hard. Pain, mistakes, God, hope, darkness...good things to share but hard sometimes to unearth and put on paper. Sometimes saying other people's prayers helps.Amen.

I found this in my Celtic prayer book last August, but last summer was full of love and dancing, so I am not sure I really got to process it thoroughly. Today, as I read it again, I'm reminded of the vulnerability of walking barefoot through the world. Opening yourself to picking up thorns along the way. To feeling what you walk through without the protection of shoes. It feels like the same idea to me...what about you?

"We are called to intentional, deliberate vulnerability." Rule of the Northumbria Community

"I had a vision of a house. Every time a crack appeared in the wall, or damage in the house, I dashed out to repair it as quickly as I possibly could, like most of us do, so that the inside of the house was protected and kept safe from the weather and the storms. And the Lord said to me, 'This is what your Christian life is like. Whenever any cracks appear in the wall that has been built up around about you over the years by the world and by yourself you dash out and fill in the cracks so that no one is able to see what is inside. But i want the world to be able to see what is inside. I want to be able to come in through the cracks in your life and I am not going to fill them up either, I am going to flow in and out of these cracks. So when you see the cracks appear in your life, do not rush out and fill them in. Let Me come in."

David Mattches

I know I have filled cracks. Even after God has flowed into them, I've patched them up carefully so as to prevent anyone from seeing that I had cracks that God had to come in through. But if the cracks are sealed, God can't shine out of them, can He? Be weak, for then He is strong? Glorify Him in your weakness? Admit what you cannot do--let others see you admitting it--so that when you do more than you can on your own, they know it to be God? It's not a fun thought, but maybe it's an important one?

I was reminded again this week how scared I am of being out of control of my emotions. Instability is one of the things i hate the most, because I feel like a failure when I can't be immediately available to everyone who needs me. But more and more I'm reminded that instability is human, and if I want to help those who experience it, I can't say ANYthing if they think I'm always in complete control. Hard thought, but maybe an important one?

It's not really a day for words. There are words somewhere; good words about stories and about Story, but they're still sitting in a dark corner in the back of my mind, cloaks pulled up to hide their faces as they puff at their pipe and wait to be named. Soon, maybe, they'll save me from the shadow and reveal their true intentions. But for now, I just have pictures. This is the day I began to share my Journey with my Love. June 2, 2012.

Why are we barefoot?

Being barefoot carries very personal symbolism for us. All our lives we have felt close to nature and being barefoot lets us connect to the earth in a way that the insulation of shoes does not allow.

Spiritually, being barefoot expresses a knowledge that we are on Holy Ground, standing naked and vulnerable before our Father and Creator. The act of going “barefoot through life” also represents a desire to connect deeply—to feel everything and always be able to be hurt—or to enjoy—each experience that comes our way.

I said it better in the last entry, but sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. We have been given Love. We know beauty and pain, hope and faith, loss and second chances. And now we walk together. Barefoot, through the perils of the world. Will you take off your shoes with us?

Tesi

About Me

I write barefoot. I do pretty much everything else barefoot, too. At least...everything I can. I like the feeling of the earth beneath my feet. I like the freedom of being open to the world. I like to know where I stand. I like being just a little bit different. I like never knowing when I'll walk into a beautiful story...mine or someone else's.

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Quotes

"We like to think we live in daylight, but half the world is always dark; and fantasy, like poetry, speaks the language of the night."--Ursula K. LeGuin

"I write to discover what I think."--Daniel Boorstin

"Write something to suit yourself and many people will like it; write something to suit everybody and scarcely anyone will care for it."--Jesse Stuart

"The mind is a mansion, but most of the time we are content to live in the lobby."--William Michael

"It [love] cannot be described," Ramses said..."It must be experienced. Like being extremely drunk."--Elizabeth Peters, Seeing a Large Cat

"The important thing is to receive this moment's experience with both hands."--Elizabeth Elliot, Passion and Purity

"Life is too deep for words, so don't try to describe it, just live it."--C. S. Lewis

"That which is real has being in itself; it doesn't depend on the observer for its validity."--A. W. Tozer

"Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of the telescope and that enables you to laugh at life's realities."--Dr. Seuss

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the most of it without knowing what's going to happen next."--Gilda

Radner

"Still, so still, in the city tonight...when all that is good slinks away like a beaten dog and the black black shadows are alive with the dead, twisted poetry in broken English, flesh and blood and staring faces...So grey and despairing, strong as steel but collapsed inside..."--J. O Barr "The Crow"

"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability...to be alive is to be vulnerable."--Madeline L'Engle

"Faith is not a single moment of final decision: it is a permanent indefinitely repeated act."--J.R.R. Tolkien

"When i was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am grown, I read them openly. When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up."--C.S. Lewis

"At the back of our brains, so to speak, there is a forgotten blaze or burst of astonishment at our own existence. The object of the artistic and spiritual life is to dig for this submerged sunrise of wonder; so that a man sitting in a chair may suddenly understand that he is actually alive, and be happy."--G. K. Chesterton

"There is a space on everyone's bookshelves for books one has outgrown but cannot give away. They hold one's youth between their leaves, like flowers pressed on a half-forgotten summer's day."--Marion C. Harretty